To Wish Again
by Raggazzed12
Summary: Race hasn't had a wish for a while. He's only had a wish once, and that was a long time ago. He bets, he doesn't wish. Until one day, when things change, and he wishes again for the first time in a long time...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

**Author's Note: A new story! Yay! Wait...but...but this one...is it possible? Am I really writing a Newsies story that doesn't have Crutchy as the main character? I might have a heart attack and then this will...never mind, it's just shocking. The explanation for this one is that Racetrack, well, mostly Max C. is now on my favorite actors list, (which is like, really, really, really, long,) and so, the character and the actor kind of grew on me, you know? Disclaimer: I do not own any original newsies, I wish I owned Crutchy and possibly a few others, but I do own the non-original newsies or people. This takes place before all mentions of a strike and so forth, about a year earlier. So here we go!**

Race had never been a wisher. He didn't agree with wishing. In his mind, it wasn't betting, it wasn't as good as betting, it wasn't good for him. He had to bet. That's all he enjoyed. The rules of his life didn't allow time to wish. Only betting. That was his whole life supply of earnings. For a boy with a short height, an Italian/New Yorker accent, and a history like his, he was doing well.

So wishing wasn't needed. He didn't feel the need to do so. He'd admitted this to Kid Blink many times. Blink had always laughed at him and said that for a newsie who spent his life at the tracks, he didn't need wishing. Even Jack said so. Of course, Jack was a wisher and seemed so unlike Race at some points that the two of them could argue a good bit. But then there was Racetrack's past itself. Interestingly enough, he had once been a wisher. But when something happened that made him never want to wish again, he never did.

But the one day he actually wished again was the day there was a blizzard outside. The problem was that there were several newsies still out in that snowstorm, and noone knew where they were. Jack was out searching. Race was counting off the missing newsies, and grew more worried as he counted off the names.

"So dere's Bumlets, Itey, an' Crutchy." he said.

"An' Crutchy's da one we's gotta worry 'bout. What if da Delancy bruddahs end up findin' him den puttin' him in da refuge?" asked Jack, looking a good bit more worried than normal.

Race knew it was hard on him every time a newsie got lost like that, he took it upon himself to be responsible for all the newsies. And these were some of the youngest, and Crutchy one of the weakest, and less able to move about. Sure, Bumlets and Itey could find some shelter and get there quicker, but even if Crutchy knew of a shelter, he wouldn't be able to get there fast enough, even if he could move pretty darn fast sometimes. Race found himself wondering how they would ever find any of the missing newsies. There were way too many places in New York, and he was pretty sure it would take forever to find any particular person. Hopefully those newsies would come back, but Race doubted it.

And Jack didn't have an inkling of doubt in his mind that the missing newsies wouldn't get back and that they would all die. That's clearly, as Race realized, what Jack was thinking. The leader was worried that they wouldn't get back, and in his mind, had created a mindset that indeed, they would not last.

"_Well, dis ain't gonna go well. Dat's all Is can tink." _Race thought. He wasn't always trying to put down any of the three missing newsies, but he didn't really feel like going out into the cold and having to suffer like that. And then he realized that the others were suffering more than he was and he should've been glad that he had made it inside. But he also should be helping them out. If Jack went, he went, because he was so close in age to Jack and because every newsie mattered, even if it meant going in a snowstorm and risking their lives because they needed to find them. Of course, this wasn't the way Race had wanted to die, either. But if it was to be, so it would be.

There was a small group that would go, as it was soon decided. The group consisted of Jack, Race, Blink, Mush, Skittery, and then there was silence as Jack stared at the other newsies. He seemed to be amazed that they wouldn't go and help any others. Race just shook his head in disbelief at Jack's amazement. He couldn't believe himself that he was going in the first place.

Finally, Jack just stormed out of the building with the others behind him, obviously ashamed that the rest didn't want to go and extremely worried at the same time. Race took the chance and told Jack that they should go in pairs and search.

"So we's gotta do it dis way 'cause dere ain't no way I be doin' it any oder way round heah, Jack." he said.

"Alrigh', fine. Split inta pairs." Jack gave in, after a long argument over why they should or shouldn't do it in pairs.

Race and Blink set off. Jack was on his lonesome, Mush and Skittery went together. Race didn't care if Jack was alone. He really was only focused on the cold and the horrible storm that he and Blink had to walk through. Where on earth would they find anyone when they could hardly see two feet in front of them?

"Dis is stupid! I ain't able ta see two feet in fronta me, an' we's gotta look for people!" yelled Race to Blink, who only nodded and yelled back his agreement.

"We gotta do dis, Race, bu' Is know how ya feel!" he yelled over the wind. Race just heaved a sigh and kept walking forward.

For boys with little to no coverage like thick winter coats, boots, pants, hats, or anything from thick socks to a horse drawn carriage, this was horrible. The wind was blowing harder than ever, the snow coming down fast and furiously, and every so often Race thought he heard something but it turned out to only be the wind or a carriage driving by with the horse complaining.

Race found himself becoming completely numb. He just couldn't breath anymore. This wasn't the way things were supposed to be. He had to find someone and then get back to the lodging house as fast as he could, but neither him nor Blink were having any luck. Blink's eyepatch was basically frozen over and he seemed to be in pain from it. Race knew that he wasn't very good at seeing anything in the first place, so this wasn't helping. It would be just his luck to have to guide Blink around because he'd go blind in the other eye from this.

And then Race heard it. A cry of help, a plead, and there was terror in the voice. Race couldn't tell who it was, he just had the instinct that it was a boy and a newsie. He didn't know which one, but he wasn't taking any chances and him and Blink made their way over towards the sound.

The building they came upon had fallen down. Someone had been inside it. It was an old building by looks of the wood on the ground, and had fallen from all the snow. Race looked at Blink, who looked back, squinting through his one eye, and the two of them right then and there made an agreement that they would both get whoever it was under there out of there.

Race began to pull away wood, and Blink followed suit. There wasn't much that they could do except this, and the wind was cold and biting, so Race was doing it as fast as possible. He finally found the person, and found that it was indeed a newsie and a boy; it was Crutchy.

Crutchy was unconscious, and he looked cold and nearly frozen to death. Blink gave Race a look that clearly said, "Oh great, the tallest person in darn old Manhattan and we gotta carry him", and Race only could say that it wasn't the greatest set up of his life. But they managed to pull Crutchy out and then Blink volunteered to put him on his back because Race was shorter and he was taller and could somehow manage to drag him. Race only just managed to grab the crutch lying in the snow before they were going back as fast as they could.

The snow was getting deeper in the streets and Race wasn't going too fast. But they ran, if making heavy, fast, steps in the snow can be called running. They managed to get back to the lodging house and the minute Race and Blink stepped in the door, they both collapsed and Race only saw the color black.

Author's Note: Dear me, Race, what have you done now? I don't know, but I'm kinda excited to see what youse all tink of dis! Please review and suggestions/ideas are very welcome! Thank you and please review, review, review!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**Author's Note: Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've been really busy, and then, well, life is busy. Other than that, there are no other announcements. TeamJacob1998: Yes, I do like to ruin characters' lives and then bring them back up again. And pull at people's heart strings. Nah, I don't like doing that, I just have a taste for drama. Anyway, here we go!**

Race didn't come around for a bit, but when he did, he found that he was still on the cold, hard floor. He hardly remembered what had happened until he did. And in the meantime, he saw all the newsies staring at him or moving about. Blink was struggling to get up, and when he finally did, he grimaced at Race. Race rolled his eyes at him, and then managed to get his body half way off the ground when Jack appeared.

"Help me heah or I ain't gonna evah pay youse back." Race threatened to Jack, but was sneezing the next thing he knew.

"Alrigh', heah." Jack said, and grabbed Race, pulling him up off of the ground. Race sighed and leaned on Blink when he nearly fell over.

"Ya bettah be happy dat we's did dat. I ain't gonna get outta bed now for a few days. Is gonna be sick." said Race.

"Is didn' make ya do dat. Ya wen' an' did it. Now come on." Jack replied, and Race and Blink went on into the room. Race made a beeline for his bed.

Across the room from him was Crutchy, who was still unconscious. Kloppman was with him. Bumlets had been returned as well, but he was moving about and talking softly, but still, at least he was functioning. Race lay down in his bed moaning, wondering how on earth anything could be this sick.

Itey still wasn't back. Jack seemed to be worried about all of them. He was running around like a crazy person, like a mother hen trying to find her chicks or something. Race watched him for a while, then looked over at Blink who was lying in his bed, fast asleep. Race wondered what would happen if his girl didn't understand why he wasn't at the races tomorrow. Would she come into the lodging house? She was a Brooklyn newsie, and most of the guys in here would recognize her.

Her name was, well, her newsie name was Nosey. She was nosey, but most of the time Race called her by her real name, Elizabeth. He did call her Nosey sometimes, but really only when Spot was around. Spot, unfortunately for Race, was in love with Nosey, or Elizabeth. Spot always got what he wanted. So Race had no chance. Actually, that whole part of them going together was made up. They weren't. Race imagined they were. He made bets with himself all the time, things like _"I bet dat she gonna come runin' up ta youse today an' make dat 5 cents." _It was sort of a sad life to live. But Race loved her, and even though she didn't love him back, it didn't change his attitude towards her.

He only knew her real name because she had told him one day. She didn't sell at the races, but one day, she passed by and stopped to talk to him. He'd used his charm and his wits to get her attention. He was no Romeo, but Race could make a girl swoon at his feet if he felt like it. Not that he needed it.

Suddenly, disturbed from his thoughts at the same moment, the door to the hall burst open and in came Mush dragging Itey behind him. Jack had come in with Bumlets, and Skittery had gone in with Jack. Mush was swearing under his breath. Itey was complaining that he had to be dragged home. Jack immediately, as far as Race could tell, asked Mush where Itey had been.

"Dis stupi' kid's been hidin' in da bakery wid da chief payin' attention ta him 'cause he pay' for it!" yelled Mush, so that everyone could hear. Race almost sat straight up. Since when did Itey have any extra money?

Jack shoved Itey into the wall and reminded him what he was supposed to do with extra money. Race laughed to himself. It was funny, watching Jack attack Itey. When Jack heard the laughter, he looked at Race, who just lifted his hands and rolled his eyes. Jack rolled his back, and Race saw him look back at Itey. Jack wouldn't attack or try to reason with Race at all, and Race knew it.

Once Itey was sorted out, Jack came over to Race.

"Youse feelin' bettah?" he asked, sarcastically and pointlessly.

"Naw, I ain't betttah. Jus' listenin' ta youse lecture Itey gits it's kicks." Race replied, and looked away from Jack.

"What's da mattah wid youse, Race? Ya been actin' more... more stranger dan usual. What is it, some goil bodering ya?" asked Jack. Race looked away. "Yeah, it's a goil, ain't it?"

"Look, mind youse own personal life, 'kay? Is git 'nough torture outta dat dastardly Brooklyn an' he nose it as well as Is do. Is can like a goil, so can youse, tink 'bout Sarah, Jack!" answered Race, looking in Jack's face.

"Spot's gettin' on youse nerves, eh?"asked Jack.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Ya know Jack, dere's one ting I nevah told ya 'bout how Is mighta turned out in Brooklyn."

"What's dat?"

"If Spot weren't dere, or if he hadn't gotten inta a small fight wid me, I'da been da Brooklyn King. Bu' I dunno, Is don't need dat. I didn' wan' it. But Is was given a choice. An' Is fought him, an' Is ran. Ta heah. 'Cause I ain't needin' dat. Manhattan's different, dere ain't no fights ta decide whose leader all da time. Bu' let me tell youse, in me home, dere's more fights den alley cats git every week." said Race. He'd said this loud enough for others to hear, and he didn't really care. He was tired, cold, and felt like a sick pig.

There was silence for a while. Race fell asleep. Jack left him, and Race couldn't have cared any less than he did. He was asleep, finally.

The morning, though, brought Race awake to Kloppman's yelling. He didn't feel good at all, and gave Kloppman a look when he came by. The old man got the message and went on. Race looked over at Blink, who was just as wiped out looking as he felt, and then at Crutchy, who was conscious again but looked pretty bad. Race then heard the talking.

Had he known that the rest of the newsies were going to hear him, and every word, and then spread a rumor, he might've been more protective. But Race wasn't, and he didn't. He also didn't get up that morning. How he wished... wait, what? _"Was that a , a wish? Since when did we wish?"_ he thought. Another part of him answered: _"Since now. How you wish to be alone with Nosey, how you wish that Spot didn't always fall for the same girl as you. How you wish that the fight that you had with him wasn't over a girl. How you wish that the argument had kept you from Brooklyn. But no. You went back. And he forgave you. And now, you're gonna end up in some very deep, hot water."_

Race thought about these wishes. The word wish was strange. Race had never liked it. He was a bet placer, and didn't bother with wishes. But now, he was making wishes again. The last time Race had made a wish, it hadn't ended very well.

**Author's Note: So there's chapter two, I hope you enjoyed it! I'm creating a background to Race that probably hasn't been used before because it's my idea, and it's going to be an interesting history for Race here. I'm excited for the next chapter, and, oh yeah, Cliffhanger! Yay! Okay, enough of that... please review, ideas/suggestions are welcomed warmly and I can take all that I need! So please, review, review, review!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

**Author's Note: I'm back with chapter three, weee! I apologize for not uploading sooner, I've been busy, but here we go again! Okay, anyway, as I've said, I'm interested in where this is going... so I'll try not to delay any further. First, though, I must acknowledge my reviewers, so (put reviewers whatever things here). And now on with it!**

Race soon found that the day was getting pretty boring. Blink was exhausted, and fell asleep a lot, but Race was either asleep a few times or bored and disgusting feeling. Crutchy and Bumlets were home as well, and Kloppman was closely monitoring Crutchy, who had a bad fever and looked more tired than Blink, which wasn't good at all.

When the end of that long, horrible, day came, Race wanted to run free. But he was stuck in bed because he felt terribly sick and had a cold. Jack came in first, and Race said hi to him but nothing else. It wasn't until the others started to come in that he really felt the problem that was being caused by his carelessness of being loud. He heard his name mentioned several times as he lay in bed. What was going on? Were they all just waiting for him to tell them that what he had said was true? Race didn't know, but he wasn't very happy that everyone had heard what he had said.

Jack came up to him at that point and stood next to him, as well as did several others.

"What?" asked Race, glaring at them.

"What youse said las' night, is it true or da wese gotta tell dem all dat it ain't?" asked Jack.

"Look, what Ise sai' was true, an' I ain't goin' ovah it 'gain. Ise don't wanna, an' have no need ta."

"So youse really coulda been da leader of Brooklyn?" asked Specs.

"I already told ya, Is ain't gonna go ovah it 'gain. Youse hoid, an' dat's dat. I ain't gotta tell every secret dat Is got, do I?"

"Race, what we'se tryin' ta say is, wha' goil is it?" said Jack.

"Youse don' know her. Is gonna sell tomorra, I gotta feelin' dat I's gotta be down dere."

"Don't be gettin' youself inta fights jus' cause ya don' want us ta deal wid dem as well."

"Dat ain't da point, Jack, it ain't da point! Jus' leave me 'lone. If Is don't come back at sundown tomorra, youse can look for me, bu' I ain't gonna be in a good place." he replied. Jack sighed and motioned for the others to leave.

"Look, Race, Is care 'bout youse. I know dat youse got problems an' all. But jus' da idea of agoin' an' gettin' hurt 'cause youse gotta ain't a smart move." he said, leaning closer to Race so other couldn't hear.

"Yeah, Is know. Jus' let me sleep, will ya?" he asked Jack, wondering what on earth the leader was talking about.

"Jus' remembah, if youse feel da need, I's will come." replied Jack, handing Race a cigar that he had gotten from somewhere, and probably without paying too.

Then Jack left him to his thoughts. Race knew that tomorrow was a solo mission for himself no matter what Jack said. He had known that Spot was and had been waiting for him in the shadows, ready to protect Nosey if it came to it. Race knew it as well as Spot did, and didn't like to think about it.

That morning, he got up. He dressed, and when he looked at where Blink was, he saw that he wasn't up, and neither was Crutchy who wasn't faring any better than he had the other day. Race, on the other hand, had fully recovered and only had a few times where his nose ran. He left the place to go buy papes and then ran off to the racetrack.

When he arrived, he took it all in because he wasn't sure if Spot would go as far as to killing him. He might. Race walked inside nodding at the gate man who knew him very well and didn't care if Race was there or not.

He headed off down the stands to find a place where Spot most likely would be. He knew that ringleader was here somewhere, probably trying to force Nosey to not do anything. It was a normal day here at the tracks, with people everywhere and horses everywhere as well. Race found a corner where he lit his cigar and stood, waiting and watching.

It was then that he saw Nosey waving at him from far away. Why was she over in that area? It was an alleyway where no papes could be sold... then it came to him. It was a definite trap. And Nosey was either being forced to wave at him and drag him over or actually liked Spot and only tolerated him. He, in reply, waved back and began walking towards her. He got close enough to know that it was a trap because she looked like she was unwillingly doing it, standing there with a large fake smile on her face. He read between the lines and saw terror in her eyes.

Race came up to her.

"Alrigh', where is he?" he asked. She only pointed down the alley.

He walked down there, ready to be jumped on any minute by the enemy. Instead, "the enemy" came out swinging his cane and holding his slingshot. Spot was grinning wickedly. Race gave him a grim smile.

"Is hoid dat youse been pickin' offa Nosey." he said. Race didn't reply, just watched his every step. "Ya know, if ya wanna be banishe' from dis place altogether, dat's youse ticket."

"I ain't bein' banished from me home, Spot. Ise belong heah. Youse don'." Race said, hitting a soft part of Spot that he knew was painful.

Spot wasn't really originally a Brooklyn newsie. He had just popped out of the blue one day and taken Race's position faster than Race could react. He had then fought Race for the grandest position of them all: the leader of the Brooklyn newsies. Originally, even though Race and him were at the same level, Race was supposed to be the leader, but it was all due to a girl that he lost. Not that he cared, but Spot had. And now Spot was at it again.

"Youse ain't heah ta fight, are youse?" asked Spot.

"Oh, Is am, let me tell ya, Is been ready for days."

"Den set down dem papes, cause if ya don' make it out, den ya friends can track ya down. Dey might find ya. Dey also might find blood and nothin' ta help dem get elsewhere." said Spot. Race glared at him.

Spot only smirked, and advanced.

"Come on, figh' me. Again, do dis, again." he said.

Race rolled up his sleeves and put down his papes, clenching his cigar with his teeth. He knew that Spot meant to fight and fight dirty, so he couldn't waste time. He rased his fist, ready to put a blow on Spot.

Spot put down his cane and his slingshot and did similar things by rolling up his sleeves first and pushing back that horrible golden blond hair that attracted all the ladies; and Race always thought of it as that, and getting ready.

Nosey watched from her position in the front of the entrance. She had a worried expression on her face. Race was suddenly glad that she knew the street address to the Manhattan lodging house or else they wouldn't ever find him if all went wrong today.

The fight began with a blow to the nose by Race.

**Author's Note: Alright, I hope you enjoyed, that was chapter three, and I hope I can upload more this upcoming weekend. I really do apologize for holding it all off for so long, and thank you for waiting. Thanksgiving break is almost upon me, so I'll have more time then too! Thank you and please review, review, review!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

**Author's Note: Yay! Another chapter! Things are about to get dangerous here, and I'm rather excited to see what happens. I hope you guys are as well, because I'm going to continue this in a rather dark and bloody way. In other words, things are going to be interesting. Thank you to Galinda V. Maxwell for reviewing, good to know that you like this, I like it too! On we go!**

Spot took the blow as if it were a mere scratch and kicked upwards at Race, who moved away. He then tried to hit Race in the stomach, but Race dodged again. Race then punched Spot in the leg, and Spot moved sideways after not getting away fast enough from that punch. He punched Race in the stomach, and then pulled out a knife. Race gasped.

"Youse said dat dis would be a fair figh'." he said.

"When did Ise say dat?" Spot snickered. "Youse don' belong wid any of me girls, and ya know dat. Ya already did dat. Youse been banish' from dis place anyway, an' I don' trust ya."

"Spot, don' use dat knife, I'm warning youse." said Race.

Spot replied with slashing at Race, and then trying to kick him. He slashed at Race again, fighting the same way. Race had to run around, trying to avoid contact with the knife. One of the benefits to being short was that he could dodge anything that Spot threw at him, well, most of them.

They went on like this for a while, and still Spot made no contact with Race's body. Race became more and more tired. He hadn't managed to get anywhere near Spot, and was being delayed by his fatigue that was steadily growing. It was then that Spot hit his target, and Race tried to dodge it and failed.

The knife landed on Race's leg, and slashed downwards. Race cried out and tried to get at Spot again. Spot stabbed him in the side, and Race stifled a pure scream. He only cried out, and held his gut. There was no way he could get anywhere now. He tried to stop the blood from his gut. Spot kicked him and he fell down.

Race sat there, watching the blood seep through his fingers, and then looked back at Spot, astounded that the leader would do anything like this. His leg was equally as bloody. He couldn't focus his eyes on anything, and became more and dizzier as the minutes ticked by. Spot was holding his hands and tying them together the next thing Race knew, and then, he blacked out.

Nosey had started to run the minute Spot stabbed Race in the side. She was going to the lodging house in Manhattan, and she was going to tell the newsies there because she wouldn't be able to live if anything happened to Race or Spot.

She ran into the lodging house to find a lot of newsies at home. Jack Kelly was there, she recognized him, not that he recognized her. She ran up to him, and started to blubber everything.

"Slow down, whaddya mean?" he asked, trying to make her calm. "Who are ya an' where da youse come from?"

"I'm Nosey from Brooklyn. I'm the girl Race probably told you about. And, and Race, Spot, they just…"

She burst into tears. Jack found it awkward to have a girl who he didn't know crying right in front of him. The other newsies looked at him. Blink came up, coughing and giving Jack a face as if he was the luckiest guy in the world to have a girl like that crying in front of him. Jack just shook his head, knowing that Blink would do anything for a girl like that.

"Wha' happen'?" asked Jack.

"They fought." she said. "I thought, as well as Race did, that it was going to be a fair fight with no weapons, but…"

"Bu' Race got hisself knifed, ain't he?" said Blink. Jack wondered how Blink knew that. Maybe it was because he and Race were really close friends and he could tell that Race would have ended up like that.

"Knifed? Youse are tellin' me dat Race go' knifed by Spot?" Jack asked the both of them.

"Yes." said Nosey weakly. "In the leg, the side, and I don't know where else."

"Ya mean da gut?" asked Blink. When Nosey nodded, he paled and almost went out the door. Jack held out his hand to stop him.

"How da we'se know dis is true?" he asked her.

"Da youse really tink dat she'd be lyin' 'bout sometin' like dis?" said Blink. "Youse really are an idiot, Jack, I ain't goin' ta say dis bu' it be true."

"It's true. Help me, please. He's going to die if we don't get there. I know my way around Brooklyn, I can help you. He's your friend." said Nosey, looking at Jack.

"Take us dere, where dis happen' foist. Blink, Mush, come wid us." Jack ordered. The other two followed them out the door.

Nosey began to run and they did the same. She took them all the way to the Sheepshead Races, and then through the gate and down the lanes and past stands. They came to an alleyway, and Nosey cried out when she saw that no one was there.

"They're gone!" she yelled. Jack then saw a pile of papes in the darkness. He grabbed them, and walking out into the sunlight to better see them, he saw all of the blood on the front of one.

It was covered in blood, and Jack had a feeling that it wasn't a chicken or Spot's blood. This was from Race. On another one, spelled out in crude letters was a message cut with a knife. Jack read it and paled. Nosey ordered to see it, and so did Blink and Mush. Jack read it out loud.

"I be takin' Race ta home. I don' tink dat he's gonna make it. Cut 'im up pretty bad. Left da blood on da oder pape. Ise wouldn' come lookin' for him if Ise were youse." Jack read. Mush was holding the bloody paper, looking shocked.

"Dat's a lotta blood." he said.

Jack only nodded. He couldn't believe that Race was cut up and stuck somewhere. That boy was almost as old as he was, and at 17 years old, Race had a lot to live up for. Jack was 18, but nonetheless, he was pretty close to Race as a friend. They were so close in age and Race was a brother to him. In fact, Race helped heal the wound that was left from Jack's real brother. He didn't like to think about that.

And now Jack didn't really know what to do.

"Wese gotta go aftah him." said Blink. Jack knew that Blink was closer to Race than he was, even if there was an age gap.

"Spot will kill you guys. But fine, follow me." said Nosey, motioning for them to follow.

They walked a long ways to the lodging house. Jack knew what it was like here, and since it was near the docks, it smelled like fish. Nosey knocked on the door, and a tall Brooklyn newsie answered it. He glared at them with his square jaw line and yelled through the house.

Jack breathed in deeply, wondering what Spot would do. When Spot answered the door, he looked at Jack.

"Well, Jacky-boy, nevah thought dat you'd come. Youse did, though, jus' put youself in danger an' dese guys. Nosey, get ovah heah." he said. She moved over next to him.

"Where is Race?" Jack asked.

"If ya wanna see him, be me guest. Bu' he's mine." was Spot's reply.

Jack suddenly saw the knife in Spot's hands. It was blood red and he was holding it by the handle. Jack felt sick.

They walked in and went to a darker room with only two bunks. In one of them was Race. He was bleeding heavily from his side and his leg looked messed up too. Jack couldn't tell if he was conscious or not.

Race looked at them through his pain and wondered what on earth Jack could be doing here. He was too far gone to be saved now. Spot had succeeded in what he had meant to do, and Racetrack Higgins was dying of blood loss.

**Author's Note: Wow, okay, didn't really expect it to be like that… well, anyway, that was chapter four, I hope you enjoyed! I will update tomorrow I hope! Thank you and please review, review, review!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

**Author's Note: Wow, as I said, the last chapter was indeed drastic! Well, I just hope everything will go nicely because I don't know what's going to happen! I would also like to mention that the points of view are not clarified but they do switch between the characters now and then, just in case you wondered about that. Jack starts off with his point of view on this chapter. I would also like to mention that this take place after the strike, just to be clear. Now let's get on with it!**

Jack heard the gasp from Blink and Mush's growling from behind him as they stared at

Race. Blood was all over the bed, and seemed to still be coming from the gashes and the stab in Race's body. Jack turned to stare at Spot.

"Whaddya do dis for?" he asked the Brooklyn king.

"Noone messes wid me goils, an' youse got 'nough sense ta know dat, Jacky-boy, 'less ya don' an' ya jus' been actin' smart so it comes as a cover." said he. Jack looked at Race again, feeling a pain in his gut that was anger and panic.

"We'se gotta save 'im, an' stop da blood."said Jack, moving towards Race.

"Don' go near 'im or youse'll end up da same way." said Spot, moving fast to get in front of Jack. Blink stepped forward.

"Don' try an' stop us." he said. Jack could see the worry in his eye.

"Yeah, wes'e outnumbah youse." said Mush, but it was at that moment that several boys moved from the shadows and one was holding a knife, pointing it at Racetrack.

"Ise can still cut him up. Dere are parts of 'is body dat ain't injured." said Spot in a smug voice. Nosey moved towards him.

"At least let these boys through, Spot, please." she said. He glared at her.

"Jus' cause ya tink dat Ise gonna let dem pas' cause youse told me to don' make a difference." he said, grabbing her arm as she decided to march over to Race. "An' stay heah."

Jack looked at the boy with the knife, then back at Spot. He needed to make a move and get to Race before it was too late. He quickly moved so that he was standing right in front of Spot, and then kicked upwards, not caring where the kick landed. He hit Spot in the stomach, and then pushed him down, jumping over him and moving towards Race. The boy with the knife saw him coming and before he could get there, stabbed Race in the arm. Race cried out in pain, and Jack pushed the other boy down.

He got into a crouch next to Race, who looked at him weakly.

"Cowb-boy, is dat...dat youse?" he asked.

"Yeah, it is, Race." said Jack, quietly.

"Look, I... I be-been stupid..'bout dis...dis whole ting..."

"No, Race, you ain't been stupid, dis was sense. Ya needed ta do dis, an' I know it as well as youse do. Dis was smaht. An' dere ain't any denying it."

"No... I... I shouldn' ta...done...dis."

Race could only see Jack's body as if it were in a fog. He couldn't see past Jack, but he knew that there were others. It wasn't until Spot popped up behind Jack that he could see anything else, and when he heard Blink's voice yell "Jack, behind youse!" , he knew that Blink was there. Mush was probably as well, and he knew Nosey was there because who else would have gotten Manhattan into this?

He saw Jack twist around and punch Spot who hit him back with his cane. Race wanted to tell Spot to stop it and attempted to.

"Spot, don'...don' do ... dis. Stop... dere ain'...ain' no point." he said. He saw Spot's cloudy figure stop hitting Jack and saw Jack's face looking rather relieved.

Then he felt a sharp pain in his side and wondered what it could be, crying out as it hit him. He saw the end of Spot's cane and knew what had hit him immediately. Only that thing could make pain like that happen, and Race knew very well what it felt like.

Jack pushed Spot down again, and saw that Race was growing more pale by the minute. He tried to shake Race gently and attempted to keep him there. Blink was next to him the next thing he knew and so was Mush.

"Race, Race youse ain't givin' up now, come on." said Jack, feeling more and more desperate by the minute. He could see the other two boy's pained expressions and knew that they were trying to not see this, trying to deny that this was real.

"Jack..." Race said, his voice weaker than before.

"Come on, Race, ya gotta pull through dis." said Blink.

Race made a movement with his hand as if trying to grasp something and Jack knew in that moment that saving him would only take a miracle or a doctor, and they would get neither. There was no saving him now. Race couldn't get through like this. Jack felt despair and pain and he knew the others were feeling the same way. Spot was standing behind them, and when Jack looked back at him, he saw that Nosey was clinging to Spot with her head buried in his shoulder. Jack looked back at Race, knowing that he was witnessing the boy's last moments in life.

**Author's Note: Oh...wow...okay...well, the reason I stopped there and the reason this is such a sort chapter is because I'm pretty sure there is no coming out of this for Race. In other words, this is going to be a tragic story. I don't want any angry reviews, please, don't, sad reviews are okay but people yelling at me, no, don't bother. Okay, well, that's chapter 5 and the day chapter 6 will be uploaded is not today, but probably tomorrow. I hope you, well, liked it and that it made all the emotions seem real because I refuse to say enjoyed to a hopeless, sad story like this. Please go to my profile to vote on what story I should write next, thank you when you do! Thank you for reading and please review, review, review! **


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

**Author's Note: Okay, I'm going to be really sad at what happens next and so's everyone else. I also apologize for the confusion of either this being set before or after the strike and will say once and for all that it is after the strike, just to clear things up. Thank you to coveredinbees14 for reviewing, I appreciate it and I know, it's gonna be a sad story, it makes me sad too, (I apologize if I got your name wrong, I don't think I did but if I did, sorry). Alright, so, no matter how heart breaking this is, here we go...**

Jack sat there, helpless to the scene before him. Race was dying, and he couldn't do anything about it. He tried to talk to the boy, despite the fact that he knew it was of no use.

"Race, jus' don', please don' give up." he said.

"Jack...Ise a-ain'... gonna...evah...bu' now...now Ise... Ise g-gotta...give...in... Ise always...bet on...on da...da righ'...horse..." replied Race, quietly, struggling to breath as he did. Jack felt the tears in his eyes.

He watched his friend's breathing become slower and the blood come out, and he knew that Race was right. He had to give in now. Blink was staring at Race when Jack looked at him and so were the others. They all knew what was going to happen and now they were facing it.

Race breathed in one last time, and let it out, and didn't breath again. Jack felt the tears go down his face. Nosey was sobbing into Spot's arm, and Spot was crying as well. Blink and Mush were too, and noone spoke for a long time.

Jack stared at the body in front of him. Race had only been 17 years old, and yet Jack felt like there was more wisdom in him, wisdom beyond his 17 years that only showed up sometimes. When he looked around, he was surprised to see other Brooklyn newsies looking glum and some crying; and then he remembered that Race had been part of them even if he had left them.

They all just stood or sat there for the longest time. Jack suddenly became infuriated and realized who had done this. When he turned to the person who had, though, he saw the tears on Spot's face and suddenly realized that Spot had not been the same person when he had stabbed Race, no matter what had happened.

But the anger and confusion engulfed Jack, and the anguish did too. He found himself sobbing and tried to stay calm, but he couldn't. Jack stood up and glared at Spot.

"Dis was what youse wante', ain't it?" he asked through tears. "Youse wante' dat competition, dat person outta your way. Well ya got it, sos I hope youse are happy."

Spot didn't reply, he was too busy caressing Nosey's long hair. Jack couldn't believe that Spot had actually murdered a friend, because despite the fact that most people got nervous around him, Spot wasn't a murderer, and definitely not one to friends. And now he was, unless, and Jack had to consider this, he had murdered someone before. But not a friend, not another newsie, and Jack knew this was true.

There was silence for the longest time. Noone could speak and noone dared. Jack tried several times to get this vision out of his head, the vision of Race's body lying in that bed, bloodied and dead. It was too horrible. The short Italian had always had a good look on life, despite the fact that he had gambled.

Finally, someone spoke up. It was Jack.

"We'se gotta ge' 'im back ta Manhattan." he said, quietly. Blink and Mush stood up next to him.

"Ise ain't comin'. I'll be 'round somepoint." said Spot, just as quietly as Jack, who nodded back. Nosey was still clinging to Spot, and Jack could see the pain on her face.

He took a deep breath and steadied himself, trying to ready himself to carry Race home. He picked up the limp body, not caring how much blood he got on him and realized how much Race actually was, no matter his size.

Blink and Mush followed him outside. There was no sound in the lodging house when they left it. Jack made slow progress to the Brooklyn bridge, not caring how many people stared at him. Sure, he was carrying a dead person, but Jack couldn't think of it that way, no matter how disgusting it looked to others or felt to him.

They got over the bridge and entered their home turf. Jack was suddenly glad it was late in the evening, because no newsies were out at this time; they were eating or at the lodging house. The group made it to the lodging house just before the sun went down, and Jack could hardly bear to think about what the others would say.

When they walked in, Jack could feel the stares of the others as he walked over to Race's bed that would soon enough be replaced with another newsie. He put Race down in it. Newsies grouped around, and Jack could already see the tears in their eyes. They knew what had happened. There were outbursts of sobs and tears aplenty to go around.

Kloppman walked in after hearing nothing and was crying soon enough. Jack got out of the crowd, trying to dodge the tearful questions that others were asking him. He went to the bathroom to wash the blood off of his hands and to change outfits because he was covered in blood, and re-entered the room only to go to his bunk and lay there, trying not to listen to the others. He could see them, grouped together in clumps or standing solitarily with blank looks on their faces. He knew that they were all as devastated as he was.

The next morning wasn't much better. Noone really wanted to get out of bed and sell papes because they were depressed. Kloppman's wake up call was nowhere near as upbeat as it should have been, and the boy's replies were to glumly get out of bed without talking. When Jack got up, he only briefly glanced at the bunk that still had Race in it, and he tore his eyes away, feeling new tears in them.

Crutchy had recovered and so had Blink, but Jack saw no smile on his crippled friend's face that morning and he knew that the weight of it all was destroying everyone. There were times that day when Jack had to convince himself that everything had happened, and that Race really was dead. His mind kept trying to tell him that it wasn't true, that nothing like that could ever happen. He stumbled around, shouting the headlines, only selling a few that day. Noone wanted the headlines. Neither did Jack. He just wanted Race to be alive and Spot to be innocent.

When Jack saw Bryan Denton approaching him, he almost fainted because that man never came up to him. Denton was smiling, completely unaware that anything had happened.

"Hello, Jack, what's the matter?" he asked when he was right next to him.

"I...Denton, did ya evah lose someone like a friend?" asked Jack.

"Yes. Wait... who died?!" said Denton, sounding alarmed.

"It be... Race." said Jack, trying to hold back the tears.

"But how?" asked Denton.

"Spot an' him, Spot wen' to far, an' stabbed 'im, an' den..." Jack burst into tears despite his attempts to hold them back. Denton put an arm around him, saying that he would buy him lunch and listen to the whole story.

When they got to the deli, Jack spilled out everything. He told Denton about the fight that Spot and Race had ended up in years ago, and then about the fight just yesterday that had claimed Race's life. When other newsies would enter the deli, Jack saw Denton realize the quietness and their glum faces. Jack would have done anything to help his fellow newsies get better, but he wasn't much better off himself.

"So... Race is dead." said Denton. "And you are facing the aftermath of it. I see."

"Wese jus' need ta... ta regroup on dis all. Ise tink Spot's sorry, he didn' mean it."

"I would figure that as well. You guys are going to need to plan some sort of funeral."

"Nah, we'se jus' need a small one for da newsies only. An' maybe in Brooklyn." Jack said. He hadn't even thought about that yet, but he knew what he had stated was true.

"Yes, I can arrange that. I'm sorry, Jack, I didn't know that newsies could do that." he

said.

Jack only nodded and bid Denton goodbye, watching as the man walked out the door. Spot was the next one to walk in. He gave Jack a nod and came up to him.

"Look, Ise nevah meant ta do dat. It's jus'..." he said, looking at Jack. "Ise nevah thought dat ... Jacky-boy, Ise wasn' me. It ain't me who done dat. It was somebody else. Ise did it, bu' Ise didn't, don't ya get it?"

"Yeah, Ise get it. Spot, Ise know dat youse ain't innocent, but ya ain't gonna get inta trouble wid anybody 'cept dem." said Jack, looking at the newsies who had begun to crowd around Spot. Spot had paid his respects, and Jack knew that he needed to get out of there before a fight broke out. Blink was already looking murderous.

The leader of Brooklyn left as fast as he could after Jack told him about Denton's plans, and then Jack left the deli as well to go sell the last of his papes. He knew what was going to happen, and was grateful to Denton for fixing a major problem.

It was two days later and noone had gotten over the loss of Race. Denton had planned the funeral for that day, and though it was crude, with a preacher only and all of the newsies from Manhattan and Brooklyn, it was good enough for Jack. They left the graveyard in a quiet way. It was in Brooklyn, where Jack knew Race would have wanted to be. He belonged there.

And despite everything, Jack felt a little bit better. He felt a weight go off of his shoulders. He knew that Race was gone, and knew that he was gone for good, but he also knew that everyone in Manhattan, every newsie, would remember him. Jack breathed in the fresh air the next morning and set off to work, remembering every time Race had walked next to him and talked his ears off about gambling, smiling at every time this had happened.

For years to come, they would all do this, think about Race and his sense of humor and his love of gambling. Maybe they would wish for him to be back. Maybe they would wonder if he ever wished. Race had, unknown to them, done so, once, twice, and one last time on something that would never happen, but like every wish comes true or at least it fulfilled somewhere in sometime.

**Author's Note: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, that is the end of this story, and maybe, if you'd like to imagine, just the beginning of another one... I hope you liked it and if you want another story, vote on my profile page (again I will tell you because noone has) and we'll see what happens next! Thank you and please review, review, review!**


End file.
